Legacy
by Kieran Darkriver
Summary: After his daughter's marriage to Kovu, Simba prepares to hand his throne down to Kiara as old age sets in. When tragedy strikes unexpectedly and the monarchy's whole world is turned upside down, the crown is plunged into its own personal chaos. The question is, what kind of legacy will they leave behind? [Simba's Pride Sequel]
1. Chapter 1: The Union

**A/N:** _This story takes place directly after Simba's Pride. All movie, book and comic characters belong to Disney and the rest to myself unless otherwise stated.  
I do so hope you enjoy reading._

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He smiled. Bulky golden frame wavering as ruby eyes settled on his golden-orange princess – his daughter – newly wedded on the breaking dawn as the calls, the screaming roars, of the pressession sounded behind him. It was unusual for the red-maned king to stand here, to give his own heiress away to someone he had not long ago considered a rogue, to promise his kingdom away to a consort he had once hated. Yet, here he stood, smiling down at the young, happy couple. **"Welcome home, my daughter,"** He spoke with a genuine warmth, stepping forward to rub his broad cheekbone against his daughter's own slender face. **"My son,"** He spoke again, again pressing his golden fur against that of his in-law's own, dark, pelt. **"Welcome to the family,"** The royal king lifted his head proudly, allowing his silken voice to carry over the wind. **"All of you."** He announced – a line he had spoken once before – loudly proclaiming the outlander's union to his own pride to his subjects below. Though the newly wed Heiress did not respond, her smile said worlds to him and any apprehension he once might have harbored was melted away with that smile – her happiness – and all at once the king saw that it would be fine. Everything would be fine.

His mate's light tawny head connected with his own, her forehead resting neatly under the king's rounded chin, it was enough to break his gaze away from his daughter, who now nuzzled her own husband lovingly, and for it to fall on his wife – his amazing, understanding wife – his Nala. Oh, what would he be without his Nala? A slobbering mess in the jungle, hiding away from the pride that almost wasn't as it decayed and fell apart? **"Come, Simba."** She spoke softly, her sweet scent filling his lungs as he watched the animals below begin to disband now that the ceremony had come to an end. **"Let them enjoy the sunrise."** His queen hummed gently in his ear, and Simba nodded, though he would have liked to stay, to share her happiness, to watch her glow under her husband's green gaze, he knew his queen was right, and Nala led the way down the rock's ledge, the king's ruby gaze looking back to the couple until they faded from sight.

" **Simba."** Nala scolded, a motherly, warning tone – one that could make you feel bad even if one had done nothing wrong, tone. **"They'll be fine."** She spoke pointedly, and immediately the King realized that she had saw his lingering gaze, the way his paws had dragged when he could no longer see Kovu with his daughter. **"I…"** He mumbled, his head drooping at the prospect of being scolded by his mate. **"I know that Nala."** He said simply, refusing to meet her teal-green eyes. **"But that's my baby girl. I'd stay up every night and watch her sleep if I could, Oh, Nala… She's grown up, she has, but I couldn't ever stop worrying about her, thinking about her, even if I tried."** Simba heaved a sigh, his weight suddenly becoming too heavy for his bones to carry and he plopped down, carelessly, as he reached the great rock's bottom. **"Oh, you** _ **stupid**_ **lion** _ **.**_ **"** Came his mate's roaring laughter, her person coming to nestle in the crook of Simba's own with a great 'oof'. **"Is that all that's in that head of yours?"** She chuckled, a devilish smile coming across her soft, black lips. **"She'll always be our child –** _ **your**_ **princess – no matter how old she becomes or how much she pretends she doesn't, she'll always need** _ **her**_ **father."** The tawny queen softened as she finished, giving the king a teasing jab of her paw as she sighed, burying her head deep into Simba's russet mane. And to that Simba did not respond, his own expression content as he chuckled along with the lioness, coming to rest his great head onto Nala's supple back. **"I love you, Nala."** He said simply, bright ruby eyes filtering close as he was lulled by the sound of the queen's own heart. **"And I love you too, fuzzball."** She rumbled, her soft voice echoing in his ear. A smile graced his lips, and under the shaded priderock, nuzzling close to a soft, warm body, it was easy for the king's brain to cloud in drowsiness and he allowed it. Today was the first day in a long while King Simba did not have to worry of "queen", if one could even call her that, Zira's bidding, without worrying about the threat of war and of bloodshed and of his pride-mates' death. The union – a peace treaty not set in place due to his own diplomatic savvy, mind you, but by that of his daughter's and her new husband's – had sent away his fears, for now at least, and for the first time in a long while he had not been met by hostile feline on his doorstep. And so sleep came, and Simba let it.

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A sudden pressure on the king's nose disturbed his slumber, and a large forepaw rose to swat it away, body rolling abruptly away from whatever had roused his brain into consciousness. **"Si…?"** A distant, familiar voice spoke, though the king could not understand what the voice said and simply groaned his response, burying his face deeper into his own paws. **"Sire?"** Came the voice again, this time accompanied by another rough jab to Simba's person and the lion was dragged further away from returning to his slumber. **"Your majesty?"** Fussed the intruder, sounding quite annoyed as again a tap came to Simba's forearm. The brightly colored lion groaned, ruby eyes blinking open with groggy frustration. **"** _ **What?**_ **"** He rumbled in a low growl, sounding much more irritable then he would have liked. **"What do you want?"** He slurred, tongue just as asleep as his clouded brain as finally the intruder came into clear view and all at once he realized why they were here. **"Err…"** Sputtered the blue hornbill, feathers ruffled in his discomfort – it would, after all, be easy enough for a bird such as he to be smashed under the groggy lion's paw. **"The morning report, sire."** Zazu calmly spoke, the majordomo settling as Simba became more aware of his surroundings, and Simba, knowing the bird's words before they were even spoken, simply nodded, stretching out with a great yawn. **"Ah, yes."** He cleared his throat, forcing a slight smile onto his lips – a necessary chore, that bird, and it was no secret that the king took little enjoyment in the majordomo's reports, especially of late, as they always carried sour news. **"Why don't we speak on my morning patrol, hmm? Run ahead and I'll join you in a moment, Zazu."** He stated, flicking away the steward with a nod of his head. **"A-Ah… Of course, your majesty."** Zazu took a deep bow at the paws of the lion before fluttering just a few yards away, out of earshot but certainly not out of sight. With a sigh, Simba turned to look at the form of his still slumbering mate, and, unable to find a reason to disturb her, licked the nape of her neck softly before rising to join his majordomo. It seemed Zazu came too soon every day – even though today he had been delayed by several hours, given the princess's marriage held mere hours before – even his father had decreed the morning reports would be issued only _after_ dawn, as opposed to the pre-dawn in which his grandfathers must have heard them. It'd suit Simba just fine if he only ever received the afternoon report. _Ha._ As if it would be practical. **"Tell me, how are things fairing in the kingdom, Zazu?"** He mused aloud as he neared the hornbill, and the blue majordomo flittered easily up onto the king's shoulder to gain a better vantage to the lion's ear as they traveled.

" **All is well,"** Zazu began, now resting comfortable atop of Simba. **"Several of the herds have expressed their happiness that the kingdom's military affairs have settled, apparently bickering lions is an un-fond dinnertime show."** Simba rolled his eyes, though unseen by his passenger. _'Fickle beasts.'_ He thought, snorting under his breath – you'd think with the way things went downhill last time the pride had been taken over the kingdom's subjects wouldn't take such matters so lightly. It had taken four years for the pridelands to recover as much as it had now – four long, grueling years, he was what, eleven or twelve now? Old age was already fast settling in to Simba. **"Everyone is very excited about Princess Kiara's marriage; it's all that's been spoken about all morning it seems. Animals had started to whisper about your abdication without the heiress having wed, and they are most delighted for continuation of the royal bloodline, any fears of the monarchy's future have ceased."** Zazu paused to catch his breath, and Simba sighed, eyes scanning the horizon carefully for any uninvited 'guests' testing his territory's borders. **"I'm glad."** He mumbled, taking the time out to pause and mark a growing acacia tree with his scent. **"On that note, sire…"** Zazu paused, swallowing as he took in a deep breath. **"The herds are** _ **very**_ **unhappy about the addition of Zira's lionesses to your own pride. 'Too many lions', in summary, is what many of them agree – and forgive me if this is too forward sire, but I too must agree, the pride has swelled larger than it's ever been with the addition of these lions. One of the zebra herds has already fled the area-"** The bird stopped, quickly become exasperated as he attempted to relay the situation. **"Sire, with so many mouths, don't you think you'll just drive the herds away?"** Zazu glided off of the king, coming to rest on a small patch of brush to look at the king face-to-face, a concerned look in his eye as he tried to contain his nervous fidgeting, but failed. Simba heaved a sigh, his mane suddenly feeling very heavy atop of his head, and he sat on the lush green grass before he found himself slouching. **"Yes, I know."** Was the king's hushed response. In truth, he _did_ know – he knew before he ever agreed to allow the outsiders join his kingdom that his subjects would be none too pleased on the addition of the extra eight carnivores and he knew all too well how hungry appetites could quickly wear down the food-source; and he also knew that the food-source had legs and perfectly knew how to use them – herds would not remain if the pride's appetite became too swollen, to this Simba was clear of.

But he had already thought of a solution to that, too. **"You needn't worry, Zazu."** He smiled wide, a charming smile the majordomo knew all too well, as his warm voice reached the bird's ears. **"The Pride Lands are vast and lush, with rationed hunting from the pride the herds will not be affected in the way they fear and with a home such as this, why should they leave?"** He challenged the bird, a glint in his eye and, knowing his friend well, knew the bird would not accept his offer of banter. Indeed Simba had, upon the joining of the outlanders, changed his lax hunting policy to allow the lioness (and lions) to take only the minimal amount of meat necessary for the pride's survival and had made it clear the policy would be strictly enforced. The King saw no reason why the herds would not visit as they have always done if the lions did not take significantly more animals then previous years, and so with this new policy, Simba did not worry. **"Quite right, sire."** Came the bird's chirp and in a single sentence, as Simba had expected, Zazu relented his opinion, or in the least, kept it to himself. **"Now,"** Simba began, standing to resume his patrol. **"Is there anything else to report, or was that it, Zazu?"** He questioned, and Zazu quickly flew to rest again on the king's shoulder. **"Just the usual sire,"** The hornbill explained. **"The hippos are complaining** _ **again**_ **of the buffalo drinking water on their calving lands,"** The bird scoffed, and Simba couldn't help but to agree, adding his own scorn alongside his companion's. **"When** _ **isn't**_ **that pod complaining?"** He questioned sarcastically. **"Thank you, Zazu, I'll speak to them later."** He sighed, nodding his head for the majordomo to continue with what he had been saying. Hippos were a grumpy sort, always nitpicking about one thing or the other, and buffalo more hard-headed than a bull – it would escalate into a fight, Simba knew, if the King did not respond to the pod's words, but it would be a fight either way, Simba figured, to even try and convince the two pig-headed herbivores to come to an agreement. Indeed, he would have to deal with the complaint today, less the short-tempered hippopotamuses take it into their own hands. **"The herds are ready to welcome the start of the rainy season, and many animal have announced their pregnancies,"** Zazu started again, clearly pleased with the news himself. **"Rafiki has announced his nephew, Nefu, will be training under him to become a shaman,"** The bird chirped happily, and Simba nodded. He knew Nefu had previously worked with his uncle, having taking an interest in the elder mandrill's practice, and was pleased to hear he had decided to become Rafiki's apprentice – Nefu would surely make a good shaman under the wisdom of his uncle. **"And I myself sire, will be bringing my chicks to priderock this week, as per requested."** The bird reminded, and Simba blinked, alarmed, how did time fly this fast? It seemed like only yesterday his daughter had been born, only a few heartbeats ago when Zazu had stated his intentions to retire as his wings stiffened and age took hold. Was it this week already, when Zazu would bring his adult children for the King to choose his replacement? **"I'm looking forward to seeing your chicks, Zazu, I'm sure they'd all make fine majordomos."** He complimented, and he felt the hornbill fidget behind him. **"Thank you, sire."** Zazu responded, and suddenly Simba was feeling quiet sad, having known his feathered friend his entire life. How many kings had the majordomo served in his life, how old was the elderly bird? Time was too fast, Simba decided, no longer feeling like the young king he had once been, feeling his age as it dragged on his paws. The King knew he would not reign much longer, yet the prospect of his daughter taking his place did not comfort him. What if he died tomorrow? Would the two year old lioness really be ready to take his place, youthful and inexperienced? Kiara was barely an adult in her own right – how could she manage a kingdom when she was just starting her life? Was this his fault, wanting to wait until the pridelands had healed before he perused a family with Nala?

" **The kingdom is quiet today,"** Zazu commented, interrupting the king from his thoughts. **"The report brings no other news, your majesty."** He said simply. **"Thank you Zazu, you may go."** The King responded, head turning to look back at his majordomo, well, look back as far as he possibly could, anyway. Zazu gave a soft smile, briskly nodding his acknowledgment as he took to the sky, quickly disappearing beyond Simba's line of sight.

He sighed, sitting gently down on his haunches. Couldn't time slow down, just this once? Everything had already changed, or was changing – his best friends grew old and weary and took to retiring in their jungle home – their own little piece of paradise – to live out their final days among the meerkat clan. Animals he'd known his entire life, Rafiki, Zazu, lions even, took to retirement and he too was fast approaching his own pending mortality. Most of the faces recognizable to Simba from cubhood had come and gone, including Nala's mother, Sarafina and his own, Sarabi – gone to join the great kings on their slumber in the sky. **"Won't be long until we meet again,"** Simba rumbled aloud, his thoughts taking shape in his voice, and, Simba thought of them as true. He knew he was old, knew it was likely he'd only live another three to four years at best, and if that, it wouldn't be likely he'd still be on the throne. The King feared – not for his death, for he knew he would see again that of lost faces sorely missed, but rather, for the future. He feared the daughter that did not want to be queen, that had rejected her title of princess well into her adolescents – feared the daughter that had only seemed to grow into her shoes after meeting a _boy_ , of all things, feared of youth, of impulsiveness, of not a change of person but of words spoken from the whim of the heart. Would it, actually, be okay if he died in a moment's passing?

The morning's security he had felt was quickly dragged from under his paws and Simba thought again of his uncertainties – it was true, he knew, that Kovu loved his daughter and that Kiara loved him, but for god's sake, the boy's mane wasn't even fully grown! Young love was dangerous, but so was young monarchy – especially one in which the prince consort had no understanding of running, and who's future queen had all _but_ payed attention in her studies. **"No, that wouldn't be good."** Simba agreed, nodding to himself, and with a shake of his head the King had made up his mind – he'd have to teach them, both, of the crown and _fast_. Until then, he supposed, he'd just have to, well, not die. To this, Simba chuckled, for it was such a silly notion – how could a king, much less a lion, just _not_ die? _'Hhmph.'_ Simba scoffed. _'Let's hope one of them is a fast learner. Maybe Kiara will actually pay attention now, with that boy around.'_ He sighed, head beginning to pound from all the worrying it had cooked up. _'I'll retire this year regardless, most likely, in any case. An old lion like me couldn't keep beating all these young fellows anymore.'_ He decided, slowly rising from his perch among the soft, green grass, which was only beginning to grow as the rainy season arrived. As he walked, albeit reluctantly, to the slow-moving section of the zuberi river, which gave the pridelands its life, to deal with his subject's conflicts. It would be he, as King, which would be charged with the painstaking task of coming to an agreement with the short-tempered hippo and the pig-headed buffalo, and the King wore a scowl on his face at the prospect of the task. It was still early morning and Simba wanted nothing else but to return and celebrate with his family, wanted to be with his daughter and have her joyous smile melt away his festering worries of the future, wanted to laze about until Zazu came to drag him away for yet another report of the kingdom's well-being. Yet Simba walked on to deal with this morning's complaint, displeased, as it would surely be hours before an agreement between the two volatile races could be reached.

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 _ **A/N:  
** Aaand there's the first chapter! I wanted to put a little note down here to discuss the future of this story and to explain some things. Firstly, "Legacy" is written primarily from Simba's POV (with maybe in the future POVs from Kiara/Kovu and possibly Nala) and secondly most chapters won't end like this / won't be written like this – this chapter is literally just setting the scene for the story so expect more exciting things other than a paranoia-induced walk around the pridelands._

 _Secondly, a lot has changed! Timon and Pumba have moved back to the jungle with Timon's natal meerkat group (I realize now they were actually at the ending roar sequence in TLK 2 but I'm lazy and not rewriting it), Rafiki is god knows how old as will be retiring during the course of this story with the (semi-canon) Nefu taking his place, Zazu is at least as old as Simba if not older and his species only live 'round fifteen years, so he will also be retiring/dieing during the course of the series, Sarabi and Sarafina are dead as there's no formal mention of them in TLK 2 and they'd be god awful old by now anyway, and yeah there's just going to be in general a ton of canons that are eventually going to end up dieing in "Legacy". Also, during the course of this story, something very bad is going to happen to a canon(s) that I am prepared to be yelled at for – bring on the reviews in all caps!_

 _And lastly, "Legacy" is going to be very irregularly updated throughout the upcoming holidays due to travels, however I'm really looking forward to the plot in this story and plan to finish it! :) Hope to see a few readers who enjoy it now and then._


	2. Chapter 2: Feud At The River

_**A/N:**_ _That took a lot longer than predicted, eh?_

 _Terribly sorry about the long wait, I was without internet for the month of December coupled with the fact my computer decided to break shortly thereafter. I'm not going to promise you any kind of update schedule or anything but I will try to get a chapter out every two weeks, inspiration permitting._

 _Like I said, looking forward to writing this with you guys! I have at least 25 chapters planned for Legacy, maybe more, maybe less, just depends on how fast everything progresses. Cheers! ;)_

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It was midday by the time the golden-pelted lion had _finally_ been able to resolve the dispute, and now, heading briskly back to his family on priderock, the king held a tight-lipped frowned, paws heavy from the day's stress and frustration. As he had suspected, the burly herbivores had been nigh but impossible to please, and Simba had spent many hours futilely trying to get the two factions to stop bickering long enough to come to an agreement.

 _Simba had taken his time reaching the pod's calving grounds on the Zuberi River, and having had dealt with the same pod of hippo since his accession as king, already knew very well he wouldn't enjoy the task. As the golden King neared the river banks, Simba sighed, taking a moment to compose himself as the lazy stretch of river came into view. Already the King could see the pod of hippo, several of its more aggressive members standing defiantly at the river's edge, mouths open in warning to the buffalo herd, which stood mere feet away from the aggressive hippo, as they bellowed out their discomforts._

" _King Simba!"_

 _The lion had to suppress a frown as the largest of the hippo, an aging, massive battle-scarred bull, called out to him._ "Adofo," _The King greeted the bull, the pod's leader, who stood at the forefront of the pod standing on the river's edge. His words were seemingly lost however, as the eldest of the cape buffalo, their own leader, stepped forward from the line of forming bovine, distinguishing their rank among the near-identical beasts._

" _Thank goodness you've arrived, my king. Perhaps_ you _could talk some sense into these dim-witted fools!"_

 _The buffalo, a large female known as Gerta, grunted, smacking the ground hard with a rough gray hoof, sending up a billow of broken earth from the impact._

"us _?" came the angry roar of the hippo king. "You are the fools! Dragging a_ lion _into this because you'd rather drink hippo dung than move a few feet down river?! Bah! Idiotic cows!" The bull bellowed and the pod behind echoed him in their own series of angry grunts._

" _Now, there-" Simba started, trying to smooth over the tempers that were quickly coming to a boil, but the damage had already been done and before the King could finish his sentence Gerta had interrupted him, responding to the bull's challenge with her own aggressive snorts, head lowering as she prepared to fight._

" _Now listen hear, you old sack of skin," Gerta had grunted, a sharp, menacing sound that clung heavy in your ears. "You don't own this here river and you never will!_ My _herd can drink anywhere and anything they damned will please and if you have a problem with that then maybe you'd better watch your back because you see there?-" The bovine paused, gesturing her head towards the sprouting grass behind her. "Yeah well you've got to come up here to get it, don't ya? Well that's going to be a problem then, because that there's_ my _grass and we don't take kindly to water hogs like you eating up all our food, do we?" She mocked and the buffalo sounded their agreement behind her._

" _Why you-!" Adofo almost seemed to snarl, and if hippos could flush, Simba was sure the hippo would be as red as a kaffir plum._

 _Again the King tried to speak as the two beast's tempers erupted like the fire from atop of hollow mountains, but his intervention came too late and a violent uproar of bellows, roars and grunts erupted from the creatures around. Worried of the potential injury a battle between two powerful races could cause, the lion opened his mouth, and a mighty roar split the air between them, and all at once, the animals grew quiet._

" _There's no need for this,"_

 _The king had chuffed, looking quiet annoyed at the pair of leaders. "Now, why don't we all just calm down and talk like the grown adults we all are, hm?" He suggested, calmly, to avoid furthering their ire, but alas, Gerta simply snorted a mocking, angry laugh, as she smacked her hoof down with an audible plop._

"Talk _?! With him! You must be crazy to think that fat lard would get off his high horse long enough to see that it is_ we _that are clearly in the right!"_

 _And that was all it took to send the animals again into an uproar, throwing petty insults and scathing remarks as the two sides bickered back and forth, leaving the king's fruitless attempts to quiet the animals in the background._

It had gone on like that for _hours_ , the lion managing to quiet the arguing beasts long enough for his words to be heard and then one of the animals would make a snide remark and it'd be all over, whatever diplomatic discussion dissolving into the rumble of a hundred angry voices. Simba had thought it'd be all day, if today at all, before the two herd leaders would settle down long enough to have a civil discussion – it was possible even, he figured, for a resolution to not be found at all, and for the great beasts to launch at each other's throats. It had only been by the grace of the hippopotamuses' own weakness to the heat of the African sun that the king was able to negotiate a peace treaty.

" _The hippos are not willing to move because some stupid cow says so! This has been our calving lands for generations upon generations; one upset buffalo herd will not change this! I'll rip you limb from limb if I have to!"_

 _Adofo roared, furious at the female leader's implication that_ his _pod would leave the stretch of river, a section of river, mind you, that had been in the pod's possession for years and years – Adofo himself, thirty-six years of age, had been born here. It'd be a cold day in hell before the bull relented this piece of Zuberi river, and Simba knew Adofo's threat of murder was not a light-hearted piece of banter._

 _Gerta looked absolutely furious, shaking her head aggressively and smacking the space between her and Adofo, hard. Simba immediately interjected, forcibly pushing himself in-between the hyper-aggressive buffalo and the open-mouth, tusks bared, hippo._

" _That's enough!" He snarled, fed up and frustrated, and not feeling up to dealing with what would surely be a gruesome battle. He planned on continuing, speaking all he could while the listening was good, but, to Simba's surprise, it was Adofo who spoke next, heaving a sigh._

" _Look,_ cow." _He snapped crossly, tossing his head with waning aggression. "I'll be burnt to a crisp standing out here trying to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours, and considering that's not going to happen anytime soon and I don't fancy a wicked sunburn, let's resolve this right here and now – I'm simply_ exhausted _of this whole affair."_

 _The hippo bull seemed to relax, looking much calmer then Simba was accustomed to seeing him, and Gerta too, shared the same drop-jawed confusion that the king wore upon his face. "I…" She started, clearly at a loss for words at the pod leader's sudden change of attitude. "Okay... What are you proposing, hippo?"_

" _Leave." Adofo said simply, and Simba heaved an inward sigh – apparently the proud leader had not changed very much at all. "Leave this stretch of river – there is just as good grazing, if not better, on other parts, why do you insist on this one, where all of the hippos live? End this silly fight – you upset our mothers and calves with your noise and sparring and yet we do not bother you, why bother us?"_

 _The hippo reasoned, and the King stepped aside, allowing Adofo and Gerta full access to each other. The buffalo gave a wary glance towards the golden lion, and Simba nodded his encouragement._ 'it's for the best,' _Simba thought to her, and though Gerta could not hear his thoughts, she seemed to understand the lion perfectly, and in one long, dejected sigh, she had made up her mind._

" _Well, when you put it that way…"_

" _I suppose you do have a point," She agreed, eyes coming to meet Adofo's own dark-colored gaze. "I've never been the one to upset calves, and I could see how a herd such as mine could frighten the little water pigs- er, I mean, hippos." Gerta confessed, pawing at the well-trampled earth underneath her._

" _Besides, the eatin' ain't the best. Animals as great as we deserve only the_ best _grub to fill our bellies with! You lot can keep your filthy muck-water and fodder to yourselves." The buffalo sniffed, head held high to the sky. "Thank you for coming, sire, but we're leaving. Come on, let's go – leave these pigs to their water hole."_

 _Gerta snorted dismissively, and slowly, the herd behind her murmured their agreements. To the King's pleasant surprise, the short-tempered Adofo did not respond to her dismissive taunts, and instead, nodded his head appreciatively. "Very well, Gerta." He replied simply before turning to address the lion, who stood still, tired, and happy that a resolution had finally been met. "Congratulations on Princess Kiara's marriage, your majesty. Have a safe trip back." Adofo grunted before turning to head back into the cool embrace of the shallows, and Simba said his thanks before bidding the pod farewell, fatigued, and headed for the comfort of home, pelt growing uncomfortably warm as the day came to a boil._

The buffalo had agreed to move down river, effectively leaving the hippopotamus alone – thought how permanent the arrangement was, was questionable at best. The King was certain he hadn't heard the last of Adofo's pod – the bull was full of complaints, after all – and be it buffalo or some other unfortunate soul who dare challenge the pod's rights to the patch of water, Simba would be back, he was certain. Dredging on, it was only now did Simba let his exhaustion cloud his mind. The boiling temperatures of the budding, humid African summer pelted down on him as if the lion was caught in the center of a brushfire. Angry dark grey clouds grew furiously off in the distance, but they were well past the reach of the pridelands and would not come to the lion's aid – the blue sky above was perfectly void of cloudcover, and the sun beat down on the earth mercilessly. Simba knew, it being the start of the wet season, that the heavy rains would likely come to cool the land in the afternoon; but it provided little comfort to the lion now, caught in the savageness of the mid-day heat. Fatigued from the long battle of wills with the hippo and buffalo, Simba was relieved when the great hunk of rock loomed into sight. _'Thank the great spirit! I'm glad to go home, even if only for a while!'_ The red-maned lion thought, hot and uncomfortable, and quickened his pace at the sight. Despite the blisteringly hot day, Simba easily closed the distance between him and the relief of the cool, shadowy cave and soon stood open-mouthed, panting, at the base of priderock.

The king's royal ruby gaze saw no sign of life. No lion graced his gaze as he peered up, but to this the king was unconcerned. It was, after all, _very_ lion like to laze about during the heat of the day – after all what sensible creature wouldn't – and the pride were laid up in the cool of the shade, no doubt, and Simba was eager to do the same. Setting up the aged path, the king headed for the sanctuary of the pride cave – a cozy little thing near the base of pride rock formed by a rockslide countless of years ago – with renewed vigor and eagerly slipped inside the cave's shadowed interior.

It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and Simba gave a sigh of relief, delighted to not being baked by sun. The cave, though dark, the lion could see well in, being a crepuscular creature himself, and his earlier assumption had been correct. Inside lay sprawled, napping or resting comfortably, lionesses of varying shades of tawnies, golds and browns. He had considered his pride a large one even before his daughter's union, with seven adult lionesses, plus himself and Nala. The addition of eight extra lions had made the pride massive, ballooning its numbers to a total of seventeen. Simba had never seen a pride quiet so large, and the daunting prospect of his new hunting ordinance weighed heavy on his mind – it was, after all, easier said than done then to feed seventeen lions on such a policy. _'Oh, Kiara… What have you gotten me into?_ ' Simba let out a quiet huff, and he took care to try and not disturb the lionesses as he picked his way to his own nest – a small elevated patch of stone which he shared with Nala. It was much more difficult to not tread on another than Simba had thought, as apparently all seventeen lions had decided to squeeze inside at once. Mind you, the cave could do with seven less animals; there was hardly a bare space of stone without a lion on top.

' _Letting all these lions into the pridelands… '_ He mused to himself, a small frown gracing his features. _'What am I going to do if they all decide to have cubs at once? The land couldn't support them, surely.'_ His great golden paws proved useless and clumsy in these tight quarters, and the king narrowly avoided stamping one of the lionesses' tails. _'What will happen then, hm? Who comes first – now that we are supposed to be one in the same?'_ Simba couldn't possibly see how his pride could support much more growth. The herds wouldn't stand for it, and as magnificent as the Pridelands may be, it would inadequate to support such a population boom. As his eyes finally left the cave floor and met the snoozing form of his very own pretty little lioness, Simba sighed. The best he could hope for was that some would leave; be it from joining another pride, or joining one of those pesky rogues, it was the best chance the king had this coming rainy season, when lioness tended to like to have cubs (or so he found).

With a yawn, Simba walked casually to his mate's side and bent down to nuzzle against her neck, sliding down sleepily next to his warm queen. **"Mm."** Nala rumbled, still quiet half-asleep, and seemingly too groggy to give the male a proper response, simply swatted half-heartedly at Simba's nose before rolling over and returning to her sleep. The king smiled, a stifled laugh leaving his muzzle. Nala had never been much of a morning person, not really; he'd half the mind to call her lazy, if it wasn't for the fear of being smacked by an angry lioness – besides, he wasn't much better himself, was he? **"Daddy?"** He had just closed his eyes when the warm, groggy voice of his daughter interrupted. She had a place of the cave to herself, nearby Nala and himself, which she now shared with her husband, with whom she was snuggled firmly against. It was a sight Simba was still unaccustomed to seeing, and despite himself, the king found himself feeling vastly uncomfortable at the image.

" **Yes, Kiara?"** He questioned, attempting to ignore the pit gnawing in his stomach. It wasn't as if he disliked the couple, far from it, it was just… She was his cub. She would always be a tiny newborn cub under the King's gaze – and she would never be old enough to share affections with a lion. Perhaps he was overprotective, he could admit he was at times, but either way Simba couldn't deny he'd much rather if he never saw the lion quiet so… close to his daughter ever again. **"I thought that was you."** She smiled, lifting her head to meet the king's eyes. **"I didn't see you at all after the wedding, where have you been?"** The orange-tawny lioness questioned, becoming more awake by the second, as she looked over her father. **"Oh, I.. Uh, hippos. I had to sort out a little argument they were having…"** Simba swallowed, averting from his daughter's own royal ruby gaze. **"Did you… I mean, surely you couldn't have missed me? With Kovu and all… You don't need me, do you?"** He had trailed off, barely speaking his last few words. His eyes looked firmly down at his feet, and Simba did not dare look up; he was terrified of Kiara's answer, to be honest, and hoped perhaps she had not heard him at all. What use was he to her, when she likely found her husband much more capable? It was unfortunate for Simba that he was, in fact, in a cave and his voice was easily heard among the enclosed space. **"Oh, daddy…"** Kiara spoke softly, and Simba couldn't help but to think she sounded much like her mother – you know, _that_ tone. The tone that could make you feel horrible even when you hadn't done nothing wrong tone. **"Don't be silly, daddy. Of course I missed you! Today I got married to the lion I love and I wanted – no,** _ **needed**_ **my dad by my side, and I wouldn't have had it any other way."** She reasoned, and she would have given the red-maned lion a nuzzle if it wasn't for her mate napping against her, and so instead settled for looking on fondly at her father. Simba sighed – he couldn't help but to think that Kiara was wrong and only saying such things to amuse the aging king. Simba was sure after the crown had been passed, his use would quickly plummet. **"I suppose I am being a bit silly,"** He huffed, dejected, and the tawny princes laughed. **"Of course you are, daddy! That mid-day sun must have fried your head."** She jeered playfully, and Simba smiled. **"Yeah, I guess it did."** He agreed, chuckling.

" **It's about time for a nap, then!"** He declared with a decisive nod, and Kiara yawned, nodding her head in agreement as she snuggled deeper into Kovu's dark mane. **"It's not right for a lion to be up at this hour, I'd say."** She added, closing her eyes, and Simba stretched out comfortably on the stone, his earlier fatigue easily making him groggy. **"Oh, and Kiara…"** He mumbled, his own eyes threatening to close before he could finish. **"I want you and Kovu to come out this afternoon with me, I have some things to discuss."** He spoke softly, head burying into his paws as he began to fall into his long-awaited nap. **"Mm… Okay daddy."** The sleepy lioness rumbled back, but already the tired king was half-asleep and her words were barely heard. It had been an exhausting morning for him, and at his age, it didn't take much tire him out. He would be forced to retire soon, he was sure – he just wasn't able to keep up with things as he used to, but for now, Simba did not worry of such things, and happily allowed sleep to take him.


End file.
